


Time On My Side

by Krasimer



Series: Don't Take My Sunshine Away [25]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Borderline Personality Disorder Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes, Can't work with explosives and be a reckless idiot, Geniuses, Inside his mind is an interesting place to write, Junkrat | Jamison Fawkes Has PTSD, Junkrat's a genius y'all, M/M, Protective Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Two-Man Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-02 04:55:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16298546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Krasimer/pseuds/Krasimer
Summary: Hoggy nodded again, his eyebrows rising as he looked at the page. “Good design,” he nodded towards Junkrat’s hand. There was a pencil in his fingers – had he drawn it?Junkrat peered at his hand, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember where the pencil had come from. “EMP,” he said again, quiet and focused. “Nanites. Sheila’s full of ‘em, take her down with the right timing.” The pencil in his hand twitched, his fingers curling tighter around it until he felt the plastic casing pressing into his fingers. Grounding, proof of reality, a reminder.He had drawn the design in front of him.





	Time On My Side

Things were getting clearer.

That was what he could focus on – things were easier to remember, easier to put together. Bits were sticking when he threw them at the wall. Mako – Hog – Mako was always easy enough to remember if he put effort into it, but others never had been.

Others never had been.

Mako – Hog – Mako was still a pretty piggy and the most deadly bloke he’d ever met – no Sheila could ever replace him. Not that’d he want one to try.

His entire body felt lighter, fit to take off at any moment and go flyin’ around the whole world. Back through the path they’d traveled, back to Junkertown and everything that came before. The before that had come before Overwatch, the before that had been a destroyed continent and dangerous water and a world full of choking air.

“You need to remember to wear these,” Hog’s voice grunted as he slid into the seat next to Junkrat, setting a case on the table between them.

With a grunt of his own, Junkrat nodded and pulled them closer with the fleshy hand he had left, popping open the case and tugging the lenses out. When he adjusted them on his nose, the world dropped into the startling clarity it had been lacking all morning.

Right.

Glasses.

Wake up, put them on, continue on with the day.

Things were starting to stick where he threw them – he might even remember everything, one day. Names and faces and locations, time unfoldin’ itself and dropping the pretend. Too quick, too slow, then too quick again, years blurring past until he was old-old-older than he had been before.

He was helping this mob.

He’d helped them capture someone who’d hurt one-two-almost-three of theirs. Sheila’d been able to manipulate omnic-like tech, couldn’t send anyone who’d been altered with tech.

Had to send someone with the hardware in the old style, before the upgrades and the omnics and the cybernetics. He and Hoggie had fit the bill and the blue Sheila had gone with them.

Mako had made sure they stayed together – their fighting styles worked in synch, after all.

Junkrat fidgeted as he pushed his glasses back up his nose, peering down at the paper he’d been mindlessly doodling on before Mako had come into the room. Hog stared at the page, head cocked to one side. With the new mask the doc had fixed him up with, he was having an easier time breathing, and the design of it meant that it was easier to see his eyes.

“What is it?” Hoggie leaned in a little closer, one warm hand tugging Junkrat closer.

He looked down at his drawing, a little unsure of where it had come from. The edge lines of it were interesting, rounded and curved. “Bomb,” Junkrat peered closer at it, frowning. “Think so. Looks like it might be.”

Mako nodded.

And even though it seemed like that should have been the end of it, Junkrat paused. He looked back down at the drawing in front of him and frowned even harder, trying to make sense of the shapes he had drawn. “EMP blaster,” he clarified, eyes tracing along the lines and elements, the wiring and the carefully shaped outside of it. He had drawn it without really paying attention – hadn’t been able to see, really, was just letting his hand drift across the page and tracing out idle thoughts.

Hoggy nodded again, his eyebrows rising as he looked at the page. “Good design,” he nodded towards Junkrat’s hand. There was a pencil in his fingers – had he drawn it?

Junkrat peered at his hand, eyes narrowed as he tried to remember where the pencil had come from. “EMP,” he said again, quiet and focused. “Nanites. Sheila’s full of ‘em, take her down with the right timing.” The pencil in his hand twitched, his fingers curling tighter around it until he felt the plastic casing pressing into his fingers. Grounding, proof of reality, a reminder.

He had drawn the design in front of him.

One of the others, the bloke who wore a mask a little like Mako’s when they were out somewhere, stepped up to the edge of the table. “Good design for an EMP blaster,” he said, blinking a couple of times. “He’s right. That, from what I can tell, would do damage if someone touched it.”

“Frag blast,” Junkrat grinned up at him, proud. “Two kinds of a blast, keep someone with sticky fingers from touchin’ it. It goes off, takes out nanites, someone touches it, the shell explodes.” He tapped his metal fingers against the tabletop. “Ka- _boom_.”

Mako made a noise that Junkrat knew meant he was proud of him.

“Exactly the sort of thing that will be needed if we have to fight Moira,” the mask-man nodded. “Good planning ahead.”

Junkrat leaned sideways into Mako, tilting his head up so that he could see the underside of his chin.

The larger man wrapped a hand around Junkrat for a second, squeezing him close before letting go. That was okay – didn’t need constant reassurance. Mako was real, he could tell from the heat of him and how it felt when he rubbed his chin along the man’s shoulder. The rough scrape of stubble when he leaned in closer and put his forehead against what he could see of his jaw.

Mako was real.

That meant that Junkrat was real.

Was Jamison real?

He looked at that thought for a moment, frowning vaguely at it until he decided, with a small nod, that the answer was yes. Jamison Fawkes was real – damaged and odd and out of place in a place he still didn’t fully understand, but real.

“You do good work,” the soldier said, continuing to look at the schematics Junkrat had drawn.

“Thanks,” Junkrat grinned at him, feeling just a little wild as he did. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

He flipped to another page in his sketchbook and started working again. They still needed weaponry against the threat, still needed a way to fight against people who could alter minds and rip people apart into something new. People who turned folk into weapons themselves, one of them the person who’d apparently done to the other soldier what this soldier didn’t like talking about. He’d seen them talking, sometimes, quiet moments in the hallways, spent together and close.

It was a gentle sort of grief, an echo of something he barely remembered from his own history.

A memory he couldn’t remember, a pair of people having a quiet moment together. They’d disappeared, at some point, but he faintly remembered them. He didn’t remember when they’d gone, though the memories were getting clearer as he remained in the care of the people he’d found himself with. Hoggie had brought him here, had shown him that some things could be trusted, had shown him that some people could be trusted—

This was his life, now.

Among people who had his back, among people who could back him up in a fight if he needed them to. The doctor who was dedicated in almost single-minded ways to keeping them all alive and healthy.

She’d taken him in as a patient, for nothing more than a promise he’d stick around for a bit, and she’d started fixing him up.

Junkrat—

Jamie.

JunkratJamie.

Both.

He was both.

It hadn’t been easy to come to that thought. Jamie Fawks had been a child, the last time he’d really existed. Junkrat was the bomb-maker, the one who designed weapons and planned robberies and ran around as one of the toughest of Australia, one of the most wanted, part of a two-man apocalypse.

But they weren’t in Australia, anymore. They were fighting on the side of an organization that needed their help.

There were people out there, dangerous people, who wanted them dead. Who’d been set on a mission to destroy them, twenty years ago, and had kept going. He’d seen the plans for the bomb that had been put into the Swiss headquarters. He’d known how destructive it could be, just from those plans. The people they were fighting against, they had torn lives apart and ruined so much just because they’d been put together as an enemy. By the same people who had put together the heroes.

He clenched his hands and shook his head.

At his side, Hoggie pressed a hand to his back and rubbed small circles against his spine with his thumb.

Taking a deep breath, Jamie nodded and continued to plan.

If they needed weapons and a way to keep people safe, if this was the plan they were going with, then he needed to keep working.

They would need the help.

**Author's Note:**

> Junkrat’s a secret genius, y’all. The boy is smart, he just needs to be able to use the smart without spacing out. I figure the knowledge is all there in his head, it’s just hidden behind the damage caused by radiation. Working with explosives is sort of an exact science and if you fuck it up, you will get killed by your own bomb.
> 
> Also, Mercy has Junkrat on medication to deal with his mental health issues and I figure they have a cure for radiation poisoning that far in the future. Add in that Junkrat remembers his own parents in a not-really sort of way…The guy is going to continue to stray from "In-character".
> 
> Which I feel is fine, given how AU my story has gone.


End file.
